Search this site

Pomona’s own SANCHEZ BY THE SEA  closes out their 2024 album Untitled (But It’s About You) with a gut punch. “ Windowsill ” isn’t just the last track; it’s the breaking point where heartbreak, memory, and resilience all crash into each other. The song feels like replaying every bad decision and every breakup in one night, that spiral where your past keeps knocking at the window. Sanchez’s raw, aching vocals cut straight through, while the stripped-down production gives the song space to breathe, and to hurt. What makes “Windowsill” different is the human touch woven in. Sanchez layered in real soundbites from friends who carried him through grief. In the acoustic version, collaborator Aries Romeo Aziz is heard reflecting on being lifted out of depression, a moment so real it shifts the track from heartbreak confession into lifeline. Suddenly, it’s not just Sanchez’s story, it’s anybody’s who’s been swallowed by the weight of loss and needed a voice pulling them back up. The indie alt textures stay minimal but intentional, acoustic lines, raw delivery, and silence where silence says more than another layer could. Cameos across the record include Jill Sullivan of Chipped Nail Polish, but it’s Romeo’s presence here that makes the closer land like a final exhale. At its heart, “Windowsill” is grief and reflection wrapped in a fragile kind of hope. It doesn’t sugarcoat the heaviness, but it shows there’s still light cracking through. For anyone replaying the ghosts of a broken relationship, SANCHEZ BY THE SEA offers proof you’re not alone, and that even in the darkest rooms, someone’s still calling you back to life. “Windowsill” closes the album with incredible emotional weight. Why did you choose it as the final track? I had originally planned for  ‘San Andreas Road’  to be the closer, with it being about the pleasures of solitude and how beautiful life can be. I think it could be interpreted as having moved on from the troubles of the relationship painted in the album. But then I started to picture the whole album more like a collection of memories, where starting at a certain point leads to an endless string of reminiscing, regretting, and overthinking.  In a way, Windowsill to me feels like the moment when it all becomes too much, and instead of dealing with your problems, you lash out and let all your thoughts and emotions pour out of you without a filter, only for you to end up endlessly apologizing for taking it out in such a way. ‘San Andreas Road’ is essentially the calm before the storm that is ‘Windowsill.’ The use of real-life soundbites adds such intimacy. How did the idea to include them come about? I think it’s mainly influenced by my love of rap & hip-hop. I’m sure it’s done in other genres too, but with those specifically, I’ve always enjoyed various clips, sound bites, and skits you’d find on songs by N.W.A., Beastie Boys, and Kendrick Lamar, of course. I used the ones in the songs specifically to add a glimmer of hope to a pretty bleak song and to add to the idea that there are always people who love you enough to stick with you and help you out of whatever hole your mind is in. How did collaborating with Aries Romeo Aziz shape the impact of both the main and acoustic versions? When it comes to the main version, I genuinely couldn’t imagine it without their vocals on it. I showed them the demo, and they loved it so much that they asked me if they could cover it once it was out, but I thought, “Heck, why not just get on the real thing?”  It was really fun and we spent a few sessions over Discord working through their bits which I think really brought the song together. As for the acoustic version, I really wanted to include that specific voice clip of theirs as another reminder that there’s always hope for anyone who can relate to Windowsill. The song captures the feeling of living every year of your life at once. How did you translate that into sound? I think the main way I captured the feeling was with lyrics that could encompass more than one memory. Things like “I should’ve never gone to that party,” I feel, could bring up more than one instance where that feeling of regret could be relevant. Aside from that, I think lyrics being genuine memories from my life, with a vague relation to each other, being poured out in a sort of quick-fire way also helped achieve that feeling. What do you hope listeners feel when they reach the end of  Untitled (But It’s About You)  and hear “Windowsill”? I hope listeners feel fulfilled and satisfied by the end, like they listened to a very good season of TV.  Hopefully, the bombastic nature of ‘Windowsill’ will fill them with the urge to sing or scream along and let all their troubles disappear, even if just for the duration of the song.

Pink Dreamz has never played it safe, and 2025 proves they’re doubling down. Now led by My Dreamz, the East Coast rap project is out here bending genres like it’s second nature, serving tracks that hit experimental heights while still nodding to the classics. “ Master of the Funk ” is pure attitude. A loud salute to James Brown, the track slaps with horn stabs, live guitar, and a groove that doesn’t just ask you to move, it dares you not to. My Dreamz drops razor-sharp bars stacked with clever punchlines, using the funk as a vehicle to talk discipline, hunger, and always staying a student of the game. It’s sweaty, unfiltered, and locked in on purpose. Then comes “ Supreme Being ,” same energy, different galaxy. Born from a wild real-life moment (a dolphin popping up just as My Dreamz dove into the ocean), the track channels that cosmic timing into a futuristic beat that moves fast and hits harder. The verses? Relentless. My Dreamz raps like he’s trying to outdo not just the competition, but his own past self, chasing the divine while flexing peak creative muscle. Together, these singles nail the duality that defines Pink Dreamz: grounded in groove but always reaching sky-high. Both tracks land on the upcoming full-length, dropping before the end of 2025, with My Dreamz taking on writing, producing, and performing solo. It’s shaping up to be the most unfiltered Pink Dreamz release yet. And the timing? Couldn’t be better. With 2026 marking ten years since the duo’s first mixtape, “Supreme Being” and “Master of the Funk” prove Pink Dreamz isn’t just still around, they’re hungrier, sharper, and more inventive than ever. As My Dreamz puts it: “If I can inspire one person in the world to apply that to whatever they have going on, mission accomplished.” These tracks don’t just talk about the mission; they embody it. “Master of the Funk” pulls from James Brown’s legacy. How did you balance vintage funk inspiration with your own modern rap style? There is something so raw about funk music. My favorite James Brown cut is "The Payback".  Instead of really singing, James Brown is vibing with a band, telling it like it is, and letting the words marinate.  Maybe James Brown was rap before rap.  I have my own style, and after I've finished making the beat, the rest just kind of falls into place.  I always think of my songs and art as stone versus sculpture, and that the art was always in the stone. The dolphin story behind “Supreme Being” is wild. Do you often draw inspiration from real-life moments like that? As a recording artist and someone who has been recording other artists for almost as long, you have to live life to make good music.  I've recognized times where I was making music just to make music. If I feel like I'm forcing it, it's time to pivot, usually.  You have to log off sometimes, too, and just get outside.  The most beautiful inspirations, whether complex or so simple, come from just living life. As Pink Dreamz approaches its tenth anniversary, how do these singles reflect your growth since the first mixtape? I've grown up making music, and it is hard sometimes to imagine a life where I'm not consecutively working on the next idea. Keeping Pink Dreamz alive for almost ten years, I feel like the dream has grown up beside me with a life of its own. Back in the days of the first Pink Dreamz mixtapes, it was a kind of guerrilla warfare. We'd set up a mic or get into any booth we could, party, record, and bounce.  Whatever we got, that was the song.  With this next album, I really took it song by song and wanted to focus on how good I could push myself to make each one individually.  There were a lot of redos, added vocal mixes, version 3s, and scrapped ideas before I got to where I wanted them to be.   What challenges did you face producing, writing, and performing the upcoming album entirely on your own? Music production, marketing, writing, composing, videos, etc. All of it is my passion.  Doing it all simultaneously is going to burn someone out for sure.  I try to compartmentalize each task and step away to come back to it when I have to.  Other than that, I love learning and growing in each bracket of putting the full music package together for the audience. With each next release, the visuals are better, the mixes are better, the ideas are more polished, and that is always the goal. Make the next one better than the last.  The upcoming Pink Dreamz album is absolutely my personal best. What do you want listeners, both new and longtime fans, to take away from “Supreme Being” and “Master of the Funk”? I want listeners who are supposed to find the music to find the music.  As a musician's musician, I hope as many people as possible see that they can do it too and do it. I really want to birth as many new music artists as I can in that way, or influence the sounds and styles of other artists.  "Supreme Being" is a hit. It has this awesome rolling bassline and is just bar after bar.  Please put that on your gym/workout playlist!  Someone once told me they wanted to shop all day listening to "Master of the Funk", so maybe it would be cool to get a deal with a shopping mall or something.  Contemplating another Pink Dreamz album after this one may not be the next thing for me either.  I made this next album what I wanted it to be and considered it could be the last one that I do. With that in mind, another thing I want to convey with "Master of the Funk" is that, if this is the last Pink Dreamz album, remember that you can always look in the mirror and say my name, three times.

Daisy Briggs Daisy Briggs knows some goodbyes don’t need speeches. Sometimes the best answer is a click, a truck in drive, and a smile that comes easier with every mile. That’s the spirit behind her brand-new single and video, “cold shoulder.” The Nashville singer-songwriter has built a reputation for songs that feel like pages from her own notebook — messy, honest, and easy to recognize if you’ve ever loved the wrong person a little too long. “cold shoulder” comes from one of those near-miss relationships you can’t quite shake, the kind that lingers in tan lines and white tees long after the summer fades. This time, though, she sings with the steady confidence of someone done chasing. Produced with Jordan Davis, the track moves like late-August air — warm, wistful, but light enough to let go. And the video takes that mood straight to the backroads. Behind the wheel of her truck, Briggs doesn’t look weighed down. She looks free. Watching her hang up on someone who never learned to listen feels less like payback and more like peace. For Briggs, “cold shoulder” isn’t about slamming a door. It’s about finding the one that opens when you finally stop waiting for someone else to catch up. Windows down, radio up — that’s where she’s headed now.

Alt-rock songwriter Jon Stancer has never shied away from sharp lyricism, but on his upcoming album Are We Not Here For Fun ? via Weeeee! Records, he pairs biting commentary with playful irreverence in a way that feels both urgent and refreshing. Stancer describes the record as “facetious commentary on how we’ve collectively grown numb to shocking and downright appalling behaviour.” It is a diagnosis of our desensitized age, where tragedy, humiliation, and scandal are consumed as quickly as memes on social media. Yet instead of moralizing, Stancer leans into the tension with a wink, using humor and sonic vibrancy to offset the darkness. The result is an album that critiques modern culture while still reveling in the joy of music itself. Produced alongside Jean Martin (D.D. Jackson, Jesse Zubot), the album expands Stancer’s alt-rock palette with lush and unpredictable textures. Songs weave between sardonic lyricism and bold, colorful arrangements that keep listeners on their toes. Drummer Joshua Van Tassel (Great Lake Swimmers, Donovan Woods) injects each track with dynamic energy. At the same time, Grammy nominee Drew Jurecka (Metric, Alvvays) elevates the record with sweeping strings that tug at the emotional core beneath the satire. The duality of Are We Not Here For Fun? is its greatest strength. On one level, it offers barbed takes on the bizarre circus of modern life. On another, it celebrates the catharsis of music, proof that even in the face of chaos, rhythm, and melody can be sources of resilience. Stancer is at his best when this tension peaks, where the listener can laugh at the absurdity of it all while still feeling the sting of truth. As he prepares to tour the record into 2026, Stancer promises shows that reflect the album’s ethos: thought-provoking yet irreverent, brimming with energy, and impossible to ignore. With Are We Not Here For Fun? , he has crafted a record that doesn’t just observe our strange cultural moment; it revels in it, wrestles with it, and ultimately dares us to sing along. You call the album “facetious commentary.” How do you balance humor with serious themes? I actually didn’t call the album ‘facetious commentary’. I said that about the title track. I wouldn’t characterize the rest of the record as ‘facetious commentary’ at all. But there’s not much of a trick to balancing humour with serious themes. It just happens as you’re writing. One day you’re in a serious mood and the next day you’re not. Different moods generate different types of songs.  What role did Jean Martin play in shaping the sonic direction of the record? A major role. Jean spent a lot of time on the mix. He was totally attentive to every sound, to every note played and sung, to the arrangements, the performances, etc., and he came up with a bunch of interesting and clever sonic ideas that most definitely serve to enhance the overall sound and feel of the record. How did collaborators like Joshua Van Tassel and Drew Jurecka influence the final sound? They didn’t, to be honest. They were told exactly what, how and where to play. Which song on the album best captures the spirit of  Are We Not Here For Fun?  and why? I can’t really point to one song for that. I believe  all  of the songs are equally essential to the spirit of the album.  What do you hope audiences experience when you bring these songs to the stage? Enjoyment.

Photo by: Anna Shvets In the ever-evolving world of financial technology (FinTech), we are surrounded by a dazzling array of complex payment solutions. From feature-rich e-wallets and sophisticated banking apps to cryptocurrency and biometric payments, the options are endless. Yet, amid this complexity, one of the oldest and simplest mobile technologies—SMS—continues to hold its ground as a relevant and valued payment method. Its endurance is a testament to the timeless appeal of simplicity and universal accessibility. The Paradox of Choice in Modern Payments The sheer number of payment options available today can be overwhelming. Each new app requires a download, a setup process, linking bank accounts, and learning a new interface. While these platforms offer powerful features, they also introduce a level of complexity. This "paradox of choice" can lead to decision fatigue and a desire for a more straightforward alternative for simple tasks. SMS payments provide exactly that—a minimalist approach in a maximalist world. The Case for Simplicity: How SMS Payments Work The elegance of an SMS payment lies in its directness. The mechanism, often called Direct Carrier Billing (DCB), bypasses the need for apps, logins, and credit card details entirely. A user simply confirms a purchase by sending or replying to a text message, and the charge is added directly to their monthly mobile phone bill or deducted from their prepaid balance. This minimalist approach makes it an ideal solution for specific use cases where convenience is paramount. For example, in the realm of digital entertainment for small-value transactions, a user might prefer the straightforwardness of a   pay by SMS casino  to make a quick deposit to their online casino account without navigating through multiple app screens or entering sensitive financial data. The Key Advantages of SMS Payments The enduring appeal of SMS payments can be boiled down to a few core advantages: Ubiquity:  It works on virtually any mobile phone in existence, from the latest smartphone to the most basic feature phone. No app download is necessary. Privacy:  Since the transaction is handled by the mobile network operator, no personal financial information is ever shared with the third-party merchant. Speed for Microtransactions:  For small, one-off payments, it is one of the fastest methods available. Understanding the Limitations To appreciate the role of SMS payments, it’s important to acknowledge their limitations. They are not designed to replace a user's primary bank account or e-wallet. Transaction limits are typically low, making them unsuitable for large purchases. They also lack the advanced features of modern apps, such as detailed spending analytics, loyalty program integration, or the ability to send peer-to-peer payments. A Valuable Niche in the Payment Ecosystem SMS payments are not competing to be the one-and-only payment solution. Instead, they thrive by filling a crucial niche in the broader payment ecosystem. They are the perfect tool for situations where speed, simplicity, and privacy for small transactions are the highest priorities. They serve as a powerful reminder that in the rush for more features and complexity, there is still immense value in a technology that just works, simply and reliably. In the complex FinTech world of 2025, the elegant simplicity of SMS payments ensures they remain an enduring and useful option for consumers.

Adelaide rock outfit SYCAMORE know how to grab you by the chest and not let go. With riffs that bite like Sam Fender and basslines that stomp in true FOALS fashion, the band has built a reputation for live sets that feel more like adrenaline shots than concerts. Now they’re pulling back the curtain on something more vulnerable with their latest single, Old Adelaide . The track has been sitting in their back pocket for five years, marinating, shifting, and evolving, until the moment finally felt right to let it breathe. And it doesn’t just breathe; it aches. Old Adelaide  is a ballad that digs into the bittersweet reality of people moving on, whether it’s friends, lovers, or family, and the hollow spaces they leave behind. Nostalgia drips from every note, but SYCAMORE doesn’t spoon-feed you the story. Instead, they hand over the song like a mirror, letting listeners project their own experiences onto it. For some, it may echo the sting of lost love. For others, the absence of a best friend who vanished without warning. Whatever the case, Old Adelaide  strikes that universal nerve of realizing nothing stays the same forever. “ A sense of nostalgia, a chance to unpack and relive special moments, ” the band explains. “ For those people hanging onto a person or a moment, people with hope .” With Old Adelaide , SYCAMORE proves they’re more than just purveyors of high-energy chaos; they’ve got heart, too. This release feels like a turning point for the South Australian crew, a new chapter that promises to keep pushing boundaries while staying rooted in raw, human emotion. Old Adelaide  sat with you for five years before release—what kept you holding onto it, and what finally made now feel like the right time to let it out? The song began with a simple riff and a few one-liners, then sat in the 'musical abyss' for a while. Once we found our momentum, we started piecing together ideas and finally brought it to life. We loved playing it live, and we felt now was the right time to release it. One of our family members recently moved into a nursing home and has been missing her home deeply. Releasing this song now feels like a meaningful way to revisit and cherish those special memories. What we love about this song is that it holds a different meaning for each of us. The track digs into nostalgia and loss. When you perform it live, do you tap into a specific memory, or does the meaning shift every time you play it? What we love about this song is that it means something unique to each of us. Loss has a way of shifting perspective, and that shift played a significant role in how we were able to finish this track.  SYCAMORE is known for big, high-energy riffs and live shows. How do you balance that bold side with the vulnerability of a ballad like  Old Adelaide ? We've never really been ones to pigeonhole ourselves as a one-trick pony with one sound.  We've always loved mixing things up. We enjoy experimenting with different vibes, tempos, and sounds. For us, songwriting is all about chasing the feeling. This song reminds us of that overwhelming feeling of loss, but being able to celebrate the bloody good times had.  Adelaide has its own distinct music scene. How has the city shaped your sound, and does  Old Adelaide  feel like a love letter or a goodbye to your hometown? Adelaide is incredible. It boasts a rich history of strong bands and artists, many of whom we listen to on repeat. We love being part of the live music scene here. It's definitely been a challenging ride for everyone involved since 2020, from venues and promoters to artists, but we have so much respect for those who've pushed through the hard times to keep the scene alive and give new artists like us a chance. Adelaide really is something special. You've said you want listeners to create their own story with this track. What's the wildest or most unexpected interpretation of your music you've ever heard from a fan? Great question! One of the more unexpected bits of feedback came from a rocker after we played a support gig with the NZ band  Dragon . They told us we "weren't quite loud enough," but then added that they heard us clearly from the back of the hill while sitting in a deck chair. It's a bit of a contradictory one to respond to, but it stuck with us. Ever since, we've always made sure to soundcheck properly, haha. A key lesson was to never leave your guitars out when it's windy. We once came back with only five minutes to spare before our set, only to find the neck of our Hagstrom had snapped. Was brutal.

Independent singer-songwriter Zhaklin  just dropped her new single “ Time Lost ,” and it hits straight in the chest. Built on live instrumentation and raw emotion, the track captures the universal ache of watching time slip away while still holding on to our dreams. From the jump, the sound is intimate yet cinematic. Zhaklin doesn’t rely on digital shortcuts here; she brings in a cellist, a flutist, and her own piano playing, creating a warmth you can’t fake. The cello drags you deep into the weight of the song, the flute cuts through with lightness, and the piano ties it all together with clarity that echoes the track’s core theme. Lyrically, it’s as heavy as it is hopeful. “Where did all the time go?” Zhaklin asks, her vocals delicate but urgent, balancing grief for what’s gone with the determination to keep moving forward. It’s personal, but it’s also everybody’s story, that push and pull of losing time while refusing to let go of what matters. What sets “Time Lost” apart is how Zhaklin pairs her vulnerability with authenticity. It feels like a late-night confession whispered into your ear, yet it speaks to anyone who’s ever looked back and wondered if they’re running out of moments. Her delivery is tender, powerful, and above all, real. Produced by Zhaklin herself, with engineering and mixing from Enzo Massardo, the track manages to be polished without losing its raw edge. In a world where digital perfection dominates, “Time Lost” breathes with human imperfection, and that’s what makes it unforgettable. This release proves Zhaklin isn’t just another indie voice; she’s building her own lane. “Time Lost” is more than a song; it’s a reminder to pause, reflect, and keep chasing the dreams that still set your soul on fire. What inspired you to write  “Time Lost,”  and when did the idea first take shape? The idea for Time Lost came to me earlier this year as I found myself at a point in life where I began reflecting on my legacy. I’ve taken a path that isn’t necessarily considered “the norm,” and while some of that wasn’t entirely by choice, I refused to settle for anything that didn’t feel true to my heart. That reflection naturally led me to ask, What have I really accomplished so far? Out of that questioning, Time Lost was born. Why was it so important for you to feature live instruments on this track? In today’s world, with all the talk about AI taking over the music industry, I’ve honestly felt frustrated. I deeply value my music education and my classical training, and I wanted to make a statement through Time Lost. This was my way of rebelling against the idea that technology can replace the beauty and soul of real instruments. When I heard the musicians bring to life the music I had written, the feeling was indescribable. More than anything, I want this generation of listeners to experience — and train their ears to appreciate — the richness and beauty of classical instruments. How did working with Enzo Massardo influence the final sound? Enzo is not only my longtime friend but also a trusted producer and collaborator. When I first approached him with Time Lost, I had already produced the track, but I knew I needed his engineering expertise to refine the sound design and bring the final mix to life. Beyond that, he was instrumental in connecting me with the incredible musicians from Chile who performed on the track. Enzo truly understands my sound and vision, and I’m so grateful to have him by my side in this creative journey. The song balances melancholy with hope. How do you personally find that balance in your life? I consider myself a student of life, always striving to grow — as a friend, a partner, and simply as a human being. I learn constantly, whether it’s through reading, listening to podcasts, or observing the wisdom of others. One of the biggest lessons I’ve taken to heart is that as long as God gives us breath, there is always hope. That’s how I personally find the balance between melancholy and hope. As I say in Time Lost, “…leaving footprints, no regrets.” What do you hope listeners feel or take away when they hear  “Time Lost”  for the first time? What I hope listeners feel when they hear Time Lost is a sense of comfort and encouragement. No matter how big or small your accomplishments may seem, what truly matters is knowing you used your time in the best way you could. I never want anyone to regret chasing their dreams, because that’s one thing I know I’ll never regret — no matter what the outcome is.

Vienna-based artist Madishu i sn’t here to play small, and with her debut album Owe It to Her  dropping September 19, 2025, she proves it. The multidisciplinary creative, singer, songwriter, producer, and visual visionary delivers a project that feels like both a diary and a declaration: raw, empowering, and unapologetically hers. Across 10 tracks, Owe It to Her  unpacks growth, self-love, and the audacity to take up space. From the dreamy rush of Imagination  to the playful edge of Flavour  and the healing embrace of Happyish , every song is a chapter in a bigger story, the story of honoring the younger self who dared to dream. Madishu calls the project a reminder to “honor the little girl inside us all,” and that sentiment pulses through the record. It’s not about chasing trends or pleasing playlists; it’s about reclaiming authenticity and writing from a place of courage. But don’t get it twisted: Madishu is no stranger to the global stage. Her work has landed with heavy-hitters like Atlantic Records, Trap Nation, and UKF, while her tracks have been spun at Tomorrowland’s main stage and championed by legends like Netsky. With collabs like We’re On Fire  alongside Grafix, she’s already carved out her space in the electronic and drum & bass scenes. Now, she’s stepping into a new chapter, one that’s more personal, more vulnerable, and more powerful than ever. The production of Owe It to Her  slaps with high-energy precision, but it’s the emotional core that makes it stick. Madishu’s ability to marry sonic boldness with visual storytelling and fashion-forward aesthetics makes her more than an artist; she’s building a world. At its core, Owe It to Her  is bigger than music. It’s an invitation to show up for yourself, to tap into your inner courage, and to stop apologizing for taking up space. Madishu isn’t just releasing an album, she’s sparking a movement of self-ownership and radical authenticity. Owe It to Her  is out September 19, 2025, on all major platforms. Don’t just listen, feel it.

With a flair that’s part Broadway, part basement punk show, and entirely her own,  Julia Davo  isn’t here to fit into a box; she’s here to smash it. Born and raised in New York, she cut her teeth busking on the streets of Brooklyn, where her off-kilter vocals and theatrical delivery turned heads before she ever touched a big stage. Now based in Los Angeles, Julia’s making the kind of noise that feels impossible to ignore. Her latest single, “ Media ,” has been blowing up on TikTok, it's he kind of viral moment you can’t fake. Fans are clinging to her raw, outsider anthems, proudly claiming their place as the “freak,” the “geek,” or the “girl on the stairs.” It’s messy, dramatic, and unashamed, just like Davo herself. She’s proving that being unapologetically different is exactly what makes her unforgettable in an industry drowning in copycats. But Julia isn’t slowing down. She’s got a new EP in the works, and if “Media” is any indication, it’s going to hit like a shot of espresso laced with fire. Even better, her next single, “Muse,” drops September 15th, and if you’re not paying attention, you’re about to miss the start of something dangerous. Julia Davo comforts the disturbed, disturbs the comfortable, and forces you to feel something in an age where everything feels disposable. That’s not just music, that’s a movement.

The Sun Harmonic has never been about gloss; they’re built on grit and straight-up honesty. With their new single “ Glory Days, ” the Ontario trio proves they’re not here to play safe. Frontman Kaleb Hikele, with longtime co-conspirators Dave Skrtich and Ian McLennan, tracked this one live off the floor. No tricks, no polish, just raw spirit straight from punk, hard rock, and rock & roll’s backbone. The result? A song that doesn’t just play, it punches. “Glory Days”  sounds like it was born in a sweaty club with beer-sticky floors and fists in the air. But don’t get it twisted, this isn’t empty-volume rock. Hikele first scribbled the track in 2016, working manual labor, staring out the back of a delivery van, wondering if the so-called “best years” were already behind him. Originally a folk ballad, the song morphed into something louder, angrier, and harder to ignore. Post-pandemic, its meaning hits different. What started as one guy wrestling with his mid-20s turned into a generational cry. “Every time I think of this song, I’m singing it for those who feel like the pandemic has left our best years behind us,” Hikele says. It’s not nostalgia, it’s protest. Distorted, defiant, and reminding us that rock has always been the soundtrack of survival. The mix, handled by Brian Moncarz, keeps the band’s fire at the front. The guitars snarl, the rhythm section never blinks, and the whole thing feels lean and feral. Three instruments, one voice, zero filler. It’s punk attitude meets classic rock familiarity, the kind of track you’re already screaming along to before the chorus even lands. The real power of “Glory Days” ? It flips the idea of “back then” on its head. It’s not about clinging to the past; it’s about claiming right now. As Hikele puts it: “Your glory days are never over. It’s all perspective.” That’s not just a lyric, it’s a mantra. With “Glory Days”  and a seventh album on the way, The Sun Harmonic has leveled up from a one-man project to a full-force rock unit. This is stage-built music. Music that heals through noise. Music that demands connection. And music that proves your glory days aren’t gone, you’re living them. Kaleb, how did "Glory Days" transform from a folk ballad into the full-throttle rock anthem it is today? A lot of time, patience, and curiosity. The acoustic version with a capo on the 6th fret originally built the verse and chorus progression, but when I let go of that key, it introduced the whole minor chord progression in the intro. Basically, that gave way to the genre of a harder/louder rock song. The riff in the bridge followed next. Singing it at the top of my lungs was simply a matter of transposing it up an octave from its original key in the folk version. Sometimes songs can flow between two genres like that, or others stay in one form forever. This was always one of my favourites to keep playing in both versions, same thing I always loved about a Sun Harmonic song called Recycled Words (Google it!)  The song reflects on both personal struggles and global turbulence. How do you balance the personal and political in your songwriting? Songs will always be given a new meaning by the listener. Even if you write about politics, it can mirror someone's inner experience. Or write something personal that reflects the outer world, etc. It makes me think of a very old song of mine from 2007 that I originally wrote about the Iraq war at that time, but I realized it was metaphorical to things going on in my own life at home, too. I love the duality; you can sing this song as an internal cry for help, now that your own glory days are gone, or the loss is right in front of you now. Or, it's a wake-up call about the external world around us - what are we doing killing each other while the planet kills us? It harks back to that Wrong Place at the Wrong Time trope - do you ever feel like you were supposed to be born in another era? What was it like recording the track live off the floor with the band compared to your earlier solo work? It's entirely about the energy of a performance. Three people in a room, playing the song together, in this case without a Click Track of any kind. We did nine takes of this song! Twice as many as the rest of the album. Because it wasn't right until all of a sudden, Take 9, it EXPLODED. We improvised parts, slowed down, sped up; it was so alive. I had goosebumps. So, minus the studio tricks afterwards, you're listening to a live band performance with only the studio engineers as an audience. As for my early solo work, especially The Sun Harmonic albums, it sounded like a five-piece rock group, or a 10-piece jazz or soul band, or even a 50-piece orchestra on one song. I played and overdubbed all of the instruments myself, so there was no limit to it. What's happened since is that with more people in the studio, there are fewer tracks to arrange and mix into the song. We record off the floor, I double-track my guitars, maybe add organ, or some hand percussion, plus the group vocals and harmonies. Bam! It's still a three-piece band, with overdubs, instead of a single person creating a puzzle pieced recording that will never be matched on stage by the same One Man Band as it is in the studio. I'm really glad this song took the form of our live performance, the way it would be in a dive bar. Do you see "Glory Days" as a turning point for The Sun Harmonic's sound moving into the new album? Absolutely. This song was the soundtrack to our first few years as a band, one of the early songs in our repertoire that hadn't been released yet. So we worked on it for a long time, changing parts, adding, and subtracting from the arrangement. When we recorded this song in a group of other songs, it was one of the loudest tracks by far. In a way, we pushed for it to BE as loud and rock and roll as it is now. We could have dialed it back in so many ways. But I whispered to Dave, before Take 9 in the studio, "Hey, play it a little faster"... And so it goes. The next Sun Harmonic album we're writing - spoiler alert - is almost all faster, louder, heavier rock than most of the songs on this upcoming Self-titled album. It's more Glory Days types of songs, times ten that'll make up the next album. So yes, you're right, it's the direction of the band, being foreshadowed by a song that took almost a decade to come to be. Put it this way, if we'd released this song when it was written in 2016, or even when it was recorded in December 2021, it would have been talking about different "glory days". They have certainly kept slipping away since then. And now, it's our glory days.  What do you hope fans feel when they shout along to this track at your shows? I hope they feel that GLORY DAYS KEEP SLIPPING AWAY! And they thoroughly love that feeling as they belt it out, at the live show or while they're listening to the recording, forever and ever.